


Aiming for the Weak Spot

by LuxRoyalty (slytherinsdaughter)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bombing, Bombing in a School, Day 2 - Explosion, Gen, School, Trapped, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 06:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20870087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinsdaughter/pseuds/LuxRoyalty
Summary: Regis used to people trying to kill him. Less used to people trying to kill NoctisAnd extremely unused to people managing to get close enough to hurthis son.





	Aiming for the Weak Spot

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very tired. 
> 
> It's words. Good words, maybe. but just words is good enough.

There are a few anti-monarchist groups in Lucis, of varying levels of danger. Regis liked listening to the least dangerous groups, because some of them had a point. Maybe they’d spotted a flaw in some laws that he hadn’t seen – that was useful. Some of them weren’t dangerous, or useful. They were just annoying, making noise almost randomly.

Then, there was the dangerous groups. The ones with bombs, violence – murder. They wanted their way, and they wanted it _now_, uncaring of the deaths they would cause. While they were almost always caught before they could cause a problem, there were sometimes occasional incidents.

Regis wasn’t very – allowing, towards the people that caused _incidents_. Neither were any of his council.

On that day, they knew that one of the dangerous groups, the most dangerous one in fact, was on the move. Not when, not where, not how.

They did by the end of the day.

It was just before lunch when Regis got the call, one of the first people to know. The group had struck – a bomb. It had been planted in Noctis’ school. _They couldn’t find Noctis._

He wasn’t allowed to go and help find his son.

* * *

Noctis was hunched over, breathing forcefully kept calm. His head rang loud, ears a mess of high-pitched screaming – stuck in a tiny _cave _of rubble.

His head _hurt. _It really, really, hurt. Noctis reached up and touched it, making it throb even more. It felt wet. Blood? Was he bleeding?

He shifted so carefully. Gently reaching up to check how high the ‘celling’ was, causing little shards of debris to rain down on him. The bubble of safety was just that – a bubble. Easily popped. He couldn’t risk doing that again, but he could sit up.

Then he opened his eyes.

It was pitch black. Not the black of a dark room, but of _nothingness_. He couldn’t see his hand in front of him. He took several deep, slow breaths, and used a spark of magic. Not fire – that would be bad, probably. Noctis didn’t know how much air he had here and didn’t want to risk suffocating to death. It… didn’t sound fun.

A little white shard appeared, glowing softly. The white light made the bright red on his hand appear so much more obvious. He _did_ have a head wound. He _didn’t_ know how bad it was. Noctis hadn’t put a mirror into the armiger.

Something looking too much like blood was leaking from underneath one of the sides of the little bubble that contained him. It was miraculous lucky that he wasn’t crushed. He might have been bruised, bloody and dazed, but he was alive.

He wondered how many people were.

Was Prompto?

He couldn’t remember what was happening before – was Prompto sitting on the side the puddle of – something was? Was he somewhere else?

Noctis coughed into his elbow, wincing at the sudden pain starting in his ribs. Astrals, did he hurt there too? A broken rib would be another problem he didn’t want to deal with.

Breathing was harder than it should have been.

* * *

“It had been placed in the hallway, strong enough to destroy Noctis’ classroom, but not much else.”

Regis clenched his hands into fists. “So, they targeted Noctis when they couldn’t get to me.”

Cor nodded. “The students in the rest of the building have been evacuated. There’re ambulance crews at the ready but – Regis, we can’t search for Noctis yet.”

“Why not.” Regis flatly demanded.

“The building is old, it’s got asbestos it it’s walls, when the classroom came down-“

“the asbestos – was released.”

“Yeah. 10 minutes until the masks arrive and the digging can start.”

Regis looked out of his office window. “_Shit_.”

“...We’ll find him, Reggie.”

“Yes, but will you find him _alive?”_

“We’ll fucking _try_.”

Regis leaned forward, putting his head in his hands, elbows aching from where they rested on his desk. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

The flat tone of a phone call ending made him put the phone down. Was Noctis still alive? Would he suffer even after he gets out, from injuries or _asbestos. _

Regis spent the next ten minutes pacing, worried – and angry.

* * *

Noctis coughed again when a cloud of dust rained down on him. Was that – someone? Are there people outside, trying to dig up the ones buried? Or is it the rubble shifting and starting to topple, ready to crush him.

He looked up, staring. Nothing.

It hadn’t been that long, right?

He could be here for hours, but he’ll live for the hours they’d take to rescue him. But – if the blood was Prompto’s, Prompto would die. Anyone injured might die.

Why would anyone bomb a _school_?

Was it because he was there?

Noctis’ ribs ached, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He was cold, bloody, and tired. The little bit of safety was big enough he could lie down, curled up.

No one was there to stop him.

* * *

Hours, they had dug. Rescue dogs being swapped out for more rested ones. They’d found some of the kids – living ones… dead ones. More alive than dead. They hadn’t found Noctis.

He had been in one of the worst places to sit – the group had tried so hard to kill him, aiming most of the rubble at him – even trying to make the actual explosion big enough it would take him out.

No one was sure it _hadn’t_. He might have been dead, long dead.

He might be alive and in _agony_.

No one knew.

It was terrifying.

* * *

There was a spark of light.

Noctis tilted his head up, not getting up off where he lay, but he looked at it. Was that a rescue team?

Dust and shards fell down, a small chunk hitting his leg hard enough to hurt.

Noctis swallowed. “Hello?!” He called, hoping –

“Hello! Can you see us? Keep calling!”

“I can’t –“ Noctis hesitated, looking at the size of the light – the little gap – “I can’t see you, but there’s light!”

“That’s good – where is it for you? Eye level, above –“

“It’s small hole, above.” Noctis called back, wondering. It wasn’t much, but he did have a pen in his armiger –

Noctis brought it out, gripping it tight in his hand. He paused.

“Still there, kid?” The person called.

“Yeah!” Noctis pulled a face. “Fuck it,” he murmured, sticking it though the hole. He then raised his voice again. “I put a pen into the gap – can you see it?”

“No,” they said, and Noctis’ hope fell. “Move it around, we’re looking, we promise.”

He did. The only thing Noctis could do was hope. And cough, he was doing at lot of that, each cough hurting his ribs a little more. Then he felt a tug on the pen he was trying to wave around.

“That you?” The rescuer asked, nearer.

“Yes!” Noctis exclaimed.

“Alright kid, we’re gonna get you out. What’s your name?”

Noctis hesitated, as the little gap grew bigger. “Noctis.”

“We’ve been looking for you, Noctis. We’ve found everyone else.”

Noctis smiled, or at least he though he did. “That’s good. That’s –“

He coughed again.

Noctis reached up, his hand fitting through the gap. Someone grabbed it at the other end.

Maybe – he would get out of this alright.


End file.
